


These Mean Streets

by raiining



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, master!Phil undertones, slave!Clint undertones, slavery undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 20:44:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2595827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiining/pseuds/raiining
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Barney gets himself in trouble, Clint knows there’s only one gang that might be able to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Mean Streets

**Author's Note:**

> MASSIVE THANKS to Infiniteeight, who helped me rescue this one from the WIP folder. THANK YOU, FIN!

"As you can see," Phil says, gesturing to the room below, "there are perks to membership."

Clint glances over the rail and shivers. Beneath the balcony style hallway is a room filled with bedrolls and cots. There are older teens lying around, some by themselves, but many with a partner. It's obvious who are the gang members and who are the - prostitutes? Camp followers? Clint's not sure of the term.

He can't help but notice a particularly pretty black boy with short hair getting enthusiastically ridden by a girl with a rose thorn tattoo on her shoulder. His eyes must linger a little too long.

"Ah, yes," Phil says, stepping in close behind him. "That's Maria with her new toy. Steve? Sam? Probably Sam - we already have a Steve." He waves at a blonde sitting in the corner, a skinny guy who has a dark-haired man with half an arm perched in his lap. “Associates are brought into SHIELD by senior members and kept, trained, and evaluated.”

Clint watches the men sitting together in the corner. He can't quite see their expressions from this angle, but it's obvious that the dark-haired man is getting thoroughly fucked. 

He swallows. It's half the scene below him and half Phil's proximity. He's been dangerously attracted to the lieutenant for some time now.

Clint thinks he's done a reasonable job of hiding his feelings, but either his poker face needs work or Phil's just that fucking good, because he looks at him, hums to himself for a moment, and then puts a hand on Clint's shoulder. 

"Nick was going to offer you full member status, which would guarantee you access to all associated benefits,” he says, before leaning in to whisper in Clint’s ear, “but maybe you don't care so much for our offerings. Maybe you'd rather be the fuckee then the fucker."

Clint can't suppress his shiver, but he tries to keep his voice as steady as he can. "I’m not looking for membership, and besides, all I'm good at is picking pockets."

Phil’s breath is warm on the skin of his throat. "I bet you’re good at a lot more than that."

His voice is low and proprietary. Clint feels his self-control fray. He’s never actually been fucked before, but with Phil’s hand hot on his shoulder and the casual nudity on display below, it’s easy to picture what it’d be like. 

Barney. He has to think of Barney. 

Clint screws his eyes shut. "I want to see the boss now."

Phil smiles like he understands Clint’s struggle. "Right this way."

Clint follows him down the hall, resolutely ignoring the urge to look over his shoulder. 

The boss is a terrifying man by the name of Nick Fury. Clint knows him as Big Nick, the guy Barney had fled to when Trickshot first turned on his ass. Nick’s help had been expensive, but it’d been worth it, and he’d been the only one Clint could think of when he found out what Barney had done down by the docks. 

“Clint Barton,” Nick says, striding forward to grasp his hand. The gang is squatting in a warehouse on the edge of town, but Nick has still managed to find an office to take over. The old metal desk is covered in paperwork, most of it written in some kind of code. "I hear your brother got himself into trouble again."

"Yes, sir," Clint says. 

"And what is he offering that’s good enough that SHIELD should consider rescuing his sorry ass?" Nick asks.

Clint swallows. It’s now or never. "Seventy-five percent of the take. Barney knows where the shipment is coming in and how much it's worth. He's willing to give you most of it if you'll help him get away."

Nick frowns, but he looks as though he's considering it. "What's the plan?"

Clint explains about the boat, the loading dock, the transfer, and the boys Barney had got himself on the wrong side of. "I can go in and swipe the gate key. Barney will distract the guards. I'll let you and your people through and then we'll take out the rival gang, steal the shipment, and be gone before the sun comes up."

Nick crosses his arms in front of his chest. "The key will be hidden. Do you know where it is or are you just that good?"

Clint smiles. That’s not the part he’s concerned about. "I'm just that good."

Nick seems to think about it. Finally, he glances at Phil. 

Phil shrugs with one shoulder. "We could plant evidence that the Portuguese did it. Kill two birds with one stone."

"That's true," Nick admits. He looks back at Clint. "And what about you?"

Clint blinks, confused. "I already told you, I’ll - ”

"No," Nick interrupts. "I mean after. You know this is going to happen again, Clint. Barney's an idiot. He's already dragged you down once. This is twice. The third time will be the charm."

Clint swallows. He can read the writing on the wall. "I know."

"So, what do you think about joining us? I assume Phil's already tried to give you the sell?"

Clint resists the urge to look over his shoulder at Phil. He can feel the warmth of him along his back. "He… mentioned it. I don’t know why you’d want me, though.”

Nick shrugs. “You’ve got quick fingers and a good eye. You see things. I like that.” 

Clint licks his lips. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate you saying so. I want you to know that I respect you and your people. Your outfit is small, but it's growing. There’s good word about you on the street. You've got good people, good talent, and - " he can't help but glance back at Phil quickly " - good brains."

Nick grins. "That I do."

Clint nods. “Yes, sir, but… Barney is my family. He's my brother. He's the only one I got."

Nick’s silent for a moment, studying him, but finally he nods. "I understand. I even respect your decision, but you need to understand that membership is not open forever. If you say no now, there's no guarantee that I'm going to offer again."

Clint meets his eyes. "I understand."

“Very well,” Nick says. He gestures Clint to a chair. “Sit down. It looks like we’ve got an operation to plan.”

 

*

 

They get the job done, but there's a hitch - Clint lifts the gate key but Barney misses a guard. The lookout has enough time to lift his cell phone before Clint tackles him from behind. 

"Shit," he curses, when he realizes the kid got a text off. "Our window just got halved."

He opens the gate and Nick's people pour through. They make quick work of the gang members, knocking them unconscious and then tying them up where they fall. Their dressed in the Portuguese colours, but Clint still thinks the kid he knocked out might recognize him.

"We should kill him," Barney says, reading Clint's fear.

"No," Clint says, feeling his heart kick in his chest. "No, we can't. Barney - we can't."

Barney sounds angry. "He'll know it was one of us."

"Then we run," Clint tells him. "We run like we planned to, like we talked about. Twenty-five percent will be enough."

Barney shakes his head, but he doesn't argue. They leave the guard where he is and meet up with Nick at the boat.

"Here's your cut," Nick says, handing it over. He ignores Barney, but shakes Clint's hand. "Good luck to you from here on out."

"You, too," Clint says, even though he doesn't think Nick will need it. Phil’s standing at Nick’s right hand. He looks up to meet Clint’s eyes, but Clint doesn't know him well enough to read his expression. Is he angry? Sad? Does he think Clint's about to get himself shot?

He might not be wrong.

"Let's go," Clint says to Barney, before Barney tries to argue for more. "Come on, let's get out of here."

 

*

 

Clint manages to hold things together for a little while, but sooner than he’d thought, everything falls apart.

“Come on,” he tries, putting his hands in the air. “Barney, come on.” 

"I'm sorry, little brother," Barney says, standing between Clint and the exit in a motel bathroom in California, a gun and their latest take in his hand. “You're slowing me down."

"Barney," Clint tries, because despite all of this he loves his brother, and his brother won't last two weeks without him. "Think about this. _Please_."

"No can do," Barney says, and the gun doesn't waver. "I got a better offer. Gotta fly."

Clint throws himself forward, but Barney slams the bathroom door shut and fires twice through the cheap wood. Clint's sure - pretty sure - that Barney doesn’t mean to hit him. The graze across his shoulder still hurts like a bitch, though.

"Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ," Clint curses. They're in a deadbeat part of town, but someone will still have heard the shots. Clint needs to move before the cops arrive. "Fucking backstabbing mother _fucker_."

He jimmies open the window, squeezes through, and then retrieves his go-bag from where he'd stashed it against the dumpster outside. He's been keeping a reserve of guns, ammo, and what cash he could spare tucked away for the past couple of months. He's always known this day would come.

Still, he hadn't realized how difficult going it alone would be. Three months later, Clint is bedraggled, hungry, and sore. No one wants a single man for occasional assignments, they all want him to swear allegiance to their particular gang. There's only one group Clint would be interested in joining and, well, he doesn't think their returning his calls.

When SHIELD saves his life, it's completely by accident. Clint had turned to pick pocketing to survive, stealing enough to get by on a day-to-day basis. It isn't enough to do more than feed himself and keep moving, which he has to do because every street corner he stands on belongs to someone. He manages to avoid the gangs for a surprisingly long amount of time but, finally, one of them catches him.

They tie him up in their basement, keeping him bound and gagged, and drag him out for beatings and the occasional recruitment speech. They offer him girls, too, and don't understand what it means when Clint laughs.

Phil would have gotten the joke.

"Right?" Clint asks, when the man himself appears before him. Clint’s eyes are swollen mostly shut, and he hurts pretty much everywhere, but that isn’t exactly unusual for him and he’s never actually hallucinated anyone before.

"Sir?" Phil says, looking over his shoulder at another shadowy figure, sounding awfully loud for someone who might be a hallucination. "I found a complication over here."

Clint tries to straighten himself from the heap he's fallen into, but his hands and feet are still tied. "Oof."

"Barton," Nick says, and the word is full of disappointment. “I told you it would come to this.”

"You did, sir,” Clint agrees, because Nick’s right. Clint’s never been the sharpest crayon in the box. 

"I warned you," Nick says with a scowl. "I don't warn people twice." He turns away.

Clint closes his eyes. It hurts, but it hurts less than keeping them open does. “I know.”

Phil hums.

Clint’s pries his eyes open. He focuses on Phil. He doesn’t know Phil well - not at all, really - but he knows that hum. That’s the sound Phil makes when he’s thinking. 

Clint holds his breath. He isn’t going to beg, but he doesn’t actually want to die down here.

“I want him,” Phil says, and then looks back at Nick. “I’ll take him on as an associate under me.”

Nick grinds to halt. "What?" 

"I said I'll take him," Phil repeats, looking back at his boss. "He's mine, though. No negotiations. No sharing and no double jobs.”

Nick doesn’t seem to need to think about it. "Done," he says, almost impatiently. "Now take your boy and go, we have a job to finish here."

Phil nods and leans over Clint. A knife appears in his hand. Clint tries to tense, but it hurts, so he stops. Phil isn’t going to hurt him.

“Good boy,” Phil murmurs softly, reaching down to cut Clint’s ropes. Clint’s feels warm at the praise, and then ashamed, because Barney had always said Clint was easy and it turns out he wasn’t wrong.

When the ropes fall away, Phil puts a hand on Clint’s elbow. “Can you walk?”

Clint nods. His feet are numb and tingly, but they hold his weight when he stands. “Yes. I think so.”

“Good,” Phil says, and doesn’t let go of Clint’s elbow. “Come on, this way.”

“Sir,” Clint says, stumbling along beside him. He’s weak and dizzy, and he doesn’t know exactly what’s going on, but he understands the basics. "You're going to take care of me, right?"

"Yes," Phil promises, and Clint sighs. That's good. He's so tired of being alone.

 

*

 

It takes longer than Clint would like to get healthy, and even after he’s healed, Phil says he’s still too thin. He’s going to feed him up, get him to put some weight on, and then maybe Phil will look at getting him a bow.

"Do you understand what I'm telling you?" Phil asks, after going through everything once.

"I'm yours," Clint repeats, slow and deliberate, wanting to make sure he got this right. "I blew my last chance with Nick, so I don't get to go through him any more. I'm to stick with you and do what you tell me to do. I'm going to learn to do more than pick-pocket, though, I'm going to learn from Maria and Melinda and Skye and - Sam?" He blinks. "Wasn't Sam - ?"

Phil smiles, cupping Clint's cheek with one hand. "Associates are brought on and kept until they either fail out or achieve full member status. It takes a lot of hard work, a strong commitment, and dedication to the gang.”

Clint's relieved. He's worth the effort, then. These lessons aren't just to stimulate him and keep him busy, they're so he can earn a chance to learn real skills. "Okay, then, yes - I understand."

"Good," Phil says, and then drags Clint's face down to his crotch. "Get busy, then. We have a lot of work to do.”

 

~ The End


End file.
